


The Titillating Tale Of Mr Pretzel

by TheTimelessChild0



Category: Castle (TV 2009)
Genre: Crack, Desperation, Episode: s05e17 Scared to Death, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Urination, alexis is a mother hen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: Castle's fight or flight instinct isslightlylate on arrival.
Relationships: Kate Beckett/Richard Castle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Titillating Tale Of Mr Pretzel

Beckett and Castle had taken on a new practice of being dead silent during their drives. It was an effect of the advance in their relationship that everything outside their apartment was now too awkward a circumstance, for conversation. It hadn’t particularly affected Castle so much, he was more than confident enough to take over Kate’s side of the conversation. It even inspired Beckett to open her mouth to protest some intolerably annoying statement of his. 

Today, however, was an exception. They were heading upstate to talk to a psychopathic killer, who may have knowledge about their suspect’s methods, and consequentially, identity. Castle had cited several TV murderers to justify his hesitance at meeting this man. Now he was quiet. Well, his mouth was. His heel was hitting the back of his car seat repeatedly. A glance told her that her boyfriend was bouncing his left leg up and down. 

“I get that you’re nervous, but could you maybe not take it out on the car? Gates still hasn’t forgiven me for putting the last one in the Hudson,” Kate quipped, bringing up one of their more thrilling cases. 

_Water. Of course, she mentions water_ , Castle clenched his fists, fighting to keep his breathing even. He was definitely not in the right state to see this..witness. A single toothy grin would be the end of his control. 

_Okay, stay positive Castle._

This hadn’t happened before. The precinct had a convenient architecture. The water fountains were next to the restrooms. It was impossible to take a drink without doing a double-take. And there were enough officers in the precinct for him to hear the running water at least once before they left for crime scenes and the like. If he hadn’t been spiralling with negativity about ways he could die at the prison, he would’ve done the smart thing, and _gone before he left_. Castle shook his head, as he remembered how many times Alexis reminded him of this, back when he started out as a consultant for the NYPD.

“Sorry,” he apologized, stretching his legs, before crossing them. 

Beckett simply nodded, turning on the radio. Quite by coincidence, the program that played was a nature show, talking about waterfalls, complete with sound effects. Castle instantly turned it off. Kate frowned at him. 

“I hate nature shows. Who needs to know about 40 different kinds of identical rivers, especially ones you can’t even see” Castle explained. 

“Alright, let me change the channel,” Kate reached for the knob on the radio, letting the watery noises permeate through the car again. As she managed to turn on light classical music, she heard a sort of grunt-like whimper from Rick. She doubted it was the classical music..so..

Beckett didn’t know if it was her time as a police officer, and the comradery that it brought; or her established knowledge of Castle, but she had to hold back a laugh as she realised what was wrong. 

It was mildly absurd, not just because she’d never before experienced her partner, in _both senses_ of the word, needing to go in a situation like this, but also because they’d known each other for long enough, that it should statistically speaking, have come up. The detective couldn’t linger on the subject of her flawed memory, because the whimper meant Castle was in pain. Or at least, uncomfortable enough to dramatically mimic pain. 

“Ehm...Castle, do you need to pee?” she asked, politely. 

Castle blushed and nodded stiffly. “I’m sorry,” he apologised again. 

Beckett shrugged. “It’s okay, that..happens. Do you need me to stop somewhere?” she assured him, and asked.

“No, that’s okay, I can wait until we reach the asylum. With the killer, we’re there to see..” Castle rolled his eyes, making an effort to flex his arms in fake confidence. 

Kate raised her eyebrows, accepting his answer..although not quite believing it.

* * *

If Castle believed in fate, he would’ve cursed it. They’d ended up stuck in traffic, more than five cars in front and behind them. He squeezed his thighs together every time the car moved an inch forward.

“You doing ok, Castle?” Kate checked, noting the way his heels were crossed tightly.

“What? Yeah, just dandy,” he claimed, folding his hands in his lap. It was more than obvious to Beckett that he was _aching_ to grab himself. She could swear he was doing just that, when she decided to look out the window, both to gauge their situation, and to give him privacy. It worked. Minimally..

Beckett noticed a sign pointing to an exit, leading to a rest stop. As in, _restroom_ stop.

When the line of cars to the right reduced to form a gap, she swerved into the other queue. 

“Wait, what are you doing? Asylum’s that way,” Castle reminded her. 

“Yes, and the bathroom’s that way. I’m not letting you wait that long.” Kate explained firmly. 

Castle scoffed, opening his mouth to argue. 

“I hear you, Mr Pretzel, I was talking to Castle,” she shut him down pointedly. “Look at it this way: I’m saving you from Lanie’s wrath.” 

Castle couldn’t argue with that. The ME was surprisingly strict with the health of the _living_.

*****

“I thought this was the fast lane,” Castle whined, rocking back and forth. 

“It’s a traffic jam, Castle. There is no fast lane.” 

************

As soon as the car pulled into the gas station, Castle’s hand was on the door handle. 

“Thanks, be right back,” he spat out hurriedly, clicking off his seatbelt, and stumbling forward out of the car, one hand in his pocket as he headed to the bathroom.

He grabbed a Mars bar without even looking at it, handing the man at the counter a 2 dollar bill. 

“I just really need the bathroom key, keep the change,” Castle stressed. 

The 20-something at the counter winced sympathetically, eyes widening as he took in the hunched over stature of the customer in front of him. 

Castle’s belt and zipper were already undone while locking the door. He lifted the seat and pulled out, letting go. 

As if to spite him, his brain reminded him of how similar the waterfall was, to the gushing of his stream. 

“Oh, who cares,” he sighed in relief.

* * *

The Richard Castle that strode out of the gas station and rejoined his partner, was a very different one indeed. He patted Kate on the shoulder gratefully. 

“Remind me to take deep breaths before visiting psychopaths in the future,” he requested. 

“Good idea. And hey, at least now, if you _wet yourself_ , it won’t be all that visible,” Beckett joked. 

“Yeah..wait, hey!” Castle protested. “I am _not_ going to wet myself,” 

“Really? We _are_ visiting Edward Scissorhands..” Kate quipped. 

  
“They wouldn’t let him have knives..would they?..” 

Beckett looked down grinning, then looked at Castle as if she didn’t know. 

Castle gulped. Beckett broke in laughter. 

He turned on the classical music again. “Not funny,” he snarked. 

A minute later, he smirked, rolling his eyes. 

_They were back to normal._

The End.


End file.
